Poet Dreamer Steve's Shack
Lovers of Words
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Snows drifting By
Time gave the whiteness a chance to be,
Echoes of shivering on the way to and from school,
Snow dancing in the wind like a crazy whirlwind,
Whitewashes made me cry back then.
Every snowbank was a new mountain to climb,
where I could slide to the bottom all by myself,
And snow could be caught on my tongue for tasting,
I would get snow in my boots and my gloves and my neck,
melting would tickle sometimes.
When it got dark and no cars went by we were alone,
Me and the flakes no sound just us,
Icicles, now those were simple fun,
you could lick them and chew them,
Last of all but most important yellow and brown snow....
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January 12, 2011 at 12:14 PM
I really like this one, Steve. Especially the last line--good warning! :)
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